


Fury of the Dragons Four

by QueenBuzzle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Dragons, Elementals, Feel-good, Fluff, Frank and Alice are alive, Gen, Guardians - Freeform, Hufflepuff Harry, Manipulation, Neglect, OCs galore, Prophecy, Siblings, Unfinished, bad guy dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-08-15 21:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8072677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBuzzle/pseuds/QueenBuzzle
Summary: {As he cleaned the last bit of fluid off of himself, he faced his eyes to the sky and knew all the wisdom of his ancestors. Am Yeshi, he thought.}Harry was not fearful of the dragon. He was tiny, tinier than perhaps Yeshi had thought he’d be. He was shorter than Yeshi in this form, and thin, his tiny legs poking out under an oversized, ratty t-shirt. “Yeshi,” murmured Harry, putting one thumb in his mouth. The other hand, slightly grubby, reached out to touch Yeshi.They both gasped as something icy shot between them—something that felt like knowing. Like protection, and love, and all that was good in the world.A snowstorm blew up around Harry, and his skin turned vaguely bluish. His hands and feet were covered in frost, and his eyes went solid blue.{Yeshi who knew—Yeshi who saw—Yeshi who would be destined to be alone.}





	1. The Guardians

**Author's Note:**

> This is UNFINISHED, and mostly plot-less. There's no guarantee it'll ever be updated, though I hope it will. And OC aplenty! For no reason other than I liked the idea of it!

**July 31, 1980 – Guardian Realm**

 

On the day that the Potter children were rushed into being (a little earlier than planned, but altogether whole), four guardians were born in the plateau.

On a bed of frozen shale deep in the tundra was where the first egg hatched. It looked like an oblong ball of ice, cloudy and frosted over, and when it shattered it sounded like breaking glass. The dragon that crawled out on unsteady feet was as white as the snow. Shimmering blue scales glinted in the midday sun, and, down his wee back, spikes of the same color refracted light into rainbows on the ground. The tip of his tail was finned, and his tiny wings attached to his forelegs in the perfect shape for both swimming and flying. As he cleaned the last bit of fluid off of himself, he faced his eyes to the sky and knew all the wisdom of his ancestors. _Am Yeshi,_ he thought.

Far away in a dugout in the earthy plains, a second egg cracked. It was covered in dirt and looked much like a flower bulb. Out of it came a forest green creature with claws like roots digging deep into the soil. His wings were crumpled and small, but he'd grow into them. His body was slick and smooth, nothing sticking out—not even a loose scale. When he'd shaken the last clinging bits of soil off of himself, he burrowed out of the dirt-walled shelter, opening his yellow eyes to the sun for the very first time. A large-mouthed dragon, almost purple in color, pulled him the rest of the way out of his cavern. She eyed him keenly, and told him he was a Guardian. His name—Adwr.

In the volcanic ring, an egg as red as magma cracked open and spat out a tiny, steaming dragon. It, too, was flaming red, and nearly as hot as the volcanoes it was born near. Down her back, on either side of her tail, and on the joint of each leg were golden yellow thorns. Tiny though she was, the thorns were wicked sharp. Her wings looked a little too big for her body, large and leathery, and she stretched them with delight. Shortly after birth, she stumbled off the lip of her volcanic home and soared through the skies for the first time. Instinct led her to her kind, hundreds of lumbering red dragons. They all craned their necks and roared to the sky, hailing her Guardian Caixia.

Finally—not long after the others—a fourth and final egg floated high in the clouds of the air realm. It spun and squirmed and shivered but did not crack for several minutes. It looked almost transparent, intangible—but the hatchling that flew out of it, puffy and proud, was very much solid. She was blue, blue like the sky on a cloudless day—and her feathery mane, running down her long, snake-like back was the purest white. She had neither claws nor spikes nor thorns, not even wings. She flew in spiraling motions around the remnants of her egg, cheering in a happy, peeping voice. “Eulalie!” she hissed in her native Parseltongue. “Eulalie, Eulalie, Eulalie!” And that was her name.

 

Though tiny at their birth, the Guardian dragons grew quickly (as all dragons tend to do). Within the year they were nearly fully grown, bounding around their favored habitats and learning all that they could. They thought little of who they guarded, as most guardians were never needed save for little pushes in the right direction.

Eulalie knew her One was named Heather—a small black-haired mage. Heather had three 'siblings', which she learned from the other air nomads were 'nest-mates'. Though it was not done, she longed to leave her realm and journey to the others—earth, fire, and water—to meet Heather's siblings' guardians. It was only in very special cases that Guardians left their realm, and seldom ever was it to journey to that of another element.

Caixia grew learning about how to protect her One, Jack. He was a temperamental redheaded who had already learned to use his Guardian-given gift of fire. Well...'use' was a loose term...he'd _used_ it... _accidentally..._ a lot...his parents were growing tired of constantly replacing things...they'd put up fireproofing charms...

She enjoyed watching him and his tiny nest-mates grow and play. As Guardian, she could always close her eyes and draw up images of what he was doing at any given moment. It had fascinated her when she learned young humans did not grow at the same rate young dragons did. She was already fully mature and could have eggs, non-Guardian eggs, if she wanted to badly enough, but he would not be physically mature for another fifteen to eighteen years...or more.

As she had little to do until he was old enough to walk, Caixia spent a lot of time day-dreaming about what her One's Half-Guardians were like. The Elder had told her Half-Guardians were the Guardians of people close to her One, who would come to him if he needed. Half-Guardians were rare, as not all humans were gifted Guardians in the first place...only the important ones...

It was a fallacy many dragons fell into. They believed the only important humans were the ones with Guardians. They cared about the other, non-guarded humans only so far as they effected the humans with Guardians.

Adwr had companionship with the purple dragon, who simply called herself Carys. She was not the same type of dragon as he—plants withered in her path and blossomed in his—but they were the only two dragons in the plains. In previous times there were many, many earth dragons...Earth was an element to be fearful of and awed by...But many of the earth mages had died out. He learned that when a Guarded mage dies, so too does their Guardian.

It scared him. He did not know what life was like yet—he did not know what Laurel, his One, would look like at her maturity. He did not know how she would manifest her Guardian-given gifts, or what her path of life would look like. He could only see a little bit...time passed differently here, how he did not know—he had never visited the human realm, but he could see the differences in his One Vision. Somehow he knew that Laurel with her red bow came before Laurel with the green bonnet and then next came Laurel wearing tiny red boots—at some point she gained a tooth—she got her first sickness—she took her first steps...

But he could only see _so far._ She was still merely an infant in his Vision.

Carys told him quietly, “Anyone may die at any given point. I have seen thousands of eggs manifest in forty years...and yet here we are, you and I, alone.”

Her voice was somewhat willowy, and seemed to get lost in the wind. He turned from her and wondered if dragons were capable of tears.

And yet still he was more fortunate than Yeshi.

Yeshi who knew—Yeshi who saw—Yeshi who would be destined to be alone. Caught in the deep tundra, hatched in still silence, the first water Guardian in such a long time that none of his ancestors knew when the last was. Yeshi who, alone, watched the Shalestone as eggs manifested...every day an egg was there, and the next it was gone. Fragile destinies gone before they even produced life.

Once there were two eggs, knocked gently together in the middle of the Shalestone. They'd lasted five weeks before Yeshi awoke one morning to find them gone. He had mourned, but in the end—it was all he ever knew to be alone.

Yeshi's One was called Harry, and Harry was a very happy little boy. As Yeshi had much time to himself, he always nudged Harry in the right direction. When Harry needed help, he urged the wee being to find it. When Harry wanted to learn, Yeshi encouraged him to try hard.

Yeshi of course knew of the Prophecy—he knew that there would soon come a time when Harry would need to make his own decision, because even Guardians couldn't intervene with Fate. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that the day was going to come—soon, when Harry (and Yeshi) may cease to exist.

He knew his One's Half-Guardians didn't know about the Prophecy, as they only Knew about things pertaining to their Ones. Still, he sometimes whispered encouragements down to his Half-Ones. He couldn't nudge them, change their course, but he could always give them encouragement.

 

**October 31, 1981 – Guardian Realm: Tundra**

 

It came to the day...it had been getting closer for many months now. The day Yeshi's Vision went dark. He'd been busy encouraging his Half-Ones to stay away, so they would not be caught in the crossfire. He knew they were all gone, out to the Wolf and the Dog's home for a nice Halloween festivity. Harry was sick. Yeshi knew that was going to happen for a long while and was pleased with this outcome.

This way...even if Harry were to, Guardian forbid, fade tonight—and Yeshi, in turn—then the other three would be safe.

He was watching his Vision carefully. It was very disconcerting not to have a whole year, as he was used to—currently he could only view one day. The outcome was not decided yet.

Yeshi was not afraid so much as he was disheartened. Truly he loved Harry, he did not want this to be the end. Even if he wasn't there to see it, the world would never get to know his wee lovely, and that seemed incredibly unfair.

Like the twin eggs he had faithfully watched over, only to mourn in the end—never having known who or what they may have become. Yeshi knew the world would get over Harry's death very quickly, for they had never known him.

It just wasn't fair.

The man with no nose came late in the night—so late that Yeshi had begun to get fearful that this was indeed the end, his Vision running out. Mumma and Dada were very frightened—Dada was shouting, and Harry recognized only a few words: “Lily” and “Harry” and “Run”.

But the wee boy recognized the fear in his Dada's voice, watched over his Mumma's shoulder as the bad man—No Nose—cast green lights at Dada.

Yeshi mourned silently as Dada's life ended, but could spare little grief at the moment as he waited in the throes for the decision of his One's continuity.

Mumma put Harry in the crib, and he stood there watching fearfully, too scared to even cry. She was crying and waving her wand around when the door slammed open and No Nose appeared.

There was more yelling—Yeshi had never heard Mumma scream like that before. He wondered, if Guardians had mothers, if his would've been that scared for him. Probably, he decided, if she knew something bad was happening.

Then—more green lights. Mumma hit the floor and that was when Harry started crying, just soft little muzzles at first and then full, piercing screams. No Nose approached and scowled a bit.

Then green lights again, and they hit Harry. Yeshi felt it through him like a great electric zap, tingling all the way down his tail and blinding him.

When he eventually came to, he immediately tried to find Harry in his Vision. To his great relief and utter horror—Harry was alive, and he could see the coming year...and it did not look good.

 

**October 31, 1981 – Guardian Realm: Volcanic Ring**

 

Caixia couldn't get Jack to calm down. A strange man was handling her One—he'd taken Jack from the Wolf's house, with soft pleasantries. Something bad had happened, Caixia knew that much, even if she didn't understand _what._

The Wolf and the Dog had been inconsolable. Oh, how they'd cried when the long-haired wizard had come: weeping and shouting, huddling the children close to them. The long-haired one had convinced them in their grief that what they needed now was time, and had taken Jack and his nest-mate Laurel from the duo.

Caixia had watched with a sense of growing worry as Heather was left behind, cradled in the Wolf's arms, unknowing.

Then she'd forced herself to pay attention to her One.

Jack was screaming. He was fit and fully screaming. She'd seen him temperamental (the other Guardians in the ring had told her that fire mages were known for their fiery tempers), but never like this. The long-haired one had handed Jack to a strange man, who had then made off into the night with the tiny child.

Once again Caixia had watched the abandoned nest-mate: Laurel was squirming in the long-haired one's arms as he cast a spell upon the Wolf's dwelling. Then, fearfully, Caixia cast her vision back to Jack once again.

He was on fire. Quite literally flaming, while the strange man swore and dropped him to the ground. Something very very bad must've happened, something other than the long-haired man and his cohort stealing Jack from the Wolf and the Dog.

The strange man doused Jack in water, which put out the flames and left her poor One sputtering. She felt her own rage boiling at this, it was unheard of to do such a thing to a fire mage! Those flames were magic he'd have to take time to regain!

Still soaked, Jack was unable to relight himself, and thus the strange man picked the boy up and continued on his way. Even squalling as he was, the strange man seemed unfazed.

“Ha-ree!” Jack shrieked. “Ha-ree!”

Something akin to terror raced down Caixia's spine. Jack and his nest-mate Harry were inexplicably close. They clashed literally like fire and water, fighting like they would kill each other—but when the time came they would always protect one another.

Harry had been left home with Mumma and Dada tonight, due to being sick. She hadn't even thought something could happen to him—but then his Guardian _had_ been encouraging the other children to stay away. If the water Guardian knew something the rest of them didn't—

Her vision turned to Harry. It was harder to see those that were not her One, especially when they had not interacted in several hours, but she still managed. The picture she opened her eyes to was horrific: Harry, on his knees in his crib, screaming to rival Jack—bleeding—Mumma collapsed, still, on the floor—the ceiling partly caved in...

And unadulterated relief, from his Guardian. Caixia knew something even worse had been avoided, and she looked on in horror as a giant man pulled Harry from his crib, weeping, and disappeared out the door.

Oh, what had happened to their joyful Ones? The future looked uncertain suddenly.

 

**October 31 – Guardian Realm: Plains**

 

“I do not understand what is happening,” Adwr whispered to himself. “Where is he taking my poor One?”

The long-haired man had cast a spell upon the Wolf's house, one that made Adwr feel uneasy. He'd held Laurel in his arms and then disappeared, reappearing far away in a place where the sun had yet to set.

Adwr had watched as Mumma and Dada were murdered, and then fearing for his young charge's future, had quickly opened his Vision to Laurel's current path. He didn't like the looks of it. The long-haired man handed his tiny One over to a happy-looking couple with few words or pleasantries, and then was gone again in an instant.

Laurel was not nearly as unhappy as Jack was, but she was confused and fearful. He felt so terribly bad for his tiny One, felt bad he could not have changed this.

“Carys,” he hissed, turning to go find his only companion. Much had happened tonight and he wanted her input. Not only had Mumma and Dada faded, but so had No Nose—who had caused so much strife and grief the past months. His One and all of her nest-mates were displaced, the Wolf's house had an unknown spell upon it—and there was still more to come.

“Carys,” Adwr called again, wandering about the plains in worry. She had not been in her den, and there was no withered plants around to show her path. She had never not come when he called.

Half-searching for Carys, he opened his Vision to Laurel in the back of his mind. In the coming days she would settle into the new home, not with ease but not fitfully either. Soon she would forget about the confusion and fear of the past and become happy with her new parents.

Adwr did not like it. It was so very unfair to Mumma and Dada. He would help her to remember her origins, he decided, no matter how much she loved her new parents. There would always be love in her heart for her original ones.

Finally he found Carys: flopped on her side in a field of dying daisies. Her purple scales seemed to be fading. Fear seized Adwr's heart—he had never dealt with death before—he did not know what to expect.

“Carys!” he exlaimed.

“Adwr,” she murmured, her voice small and unlike herself. “The coward...it is time you step up and be the Guardian you were meant to be. My One is fading fast from his realm, and soon I too will be gone. You will guard the plains for me.”

“I will always guard the plains,” Adwr agreed, kneeling at Carys' side. “Does it hurt, Carys?”

She didn't answer him, simply huffing out a little air. Her last words to him were, “I am sorry for the grief my One has caused. He was lost to me...I could not change his fate.”

Then her body shimmered and was gone, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Adwr wept.


	2. A New Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus plots. A new prophecy is spoken. Caixia asks permission to leave her realm. Yeshi and Harry bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so I dunno I was just feeling like writing, and this is what happened. I have part of another chapter written already. Still donno if this one will get finished, but I like it. I have lotsa ideas, but I work SO MUCH and never have any time. But I'll be going back to Scotland for another six months soonish, so maybe I'll get some writing time then.

            **November 5, 1981 – Hogwarts: Headmaster's Office**

The sun was low in the sky as Albus retreated to his office. He was utterly drained, face pale, finger's steepled under his chin as he relaxed. Fawkes was mid-burn and thus could offer no companionship.

            The Potters were dead.

            It was still such an— _unimaginable_ happening. Sure, Albus had known the prophecy for a little less than a year...but the Potters had posed such a challenge to him for so long. The family (though not necessarily Lily and James) had combated him at every turn in the past.

            And now, in one night...gone.

            There was only one little, tiny error he had never seen coming: four. _Four._ He'd known about the pregnancy but precious few had known Lily gave birth to four infants the previous July. Even he hadn't known until Severus Snape had come running his mouth a few months ago.

            It was so little time...but he'd made it work. There was no chance his plans wouldn't go flawlessly. With the four separated, not a single chance they'd ever meet... Everything was perfect.

            Little Heather was dropped with Remus and Sirius, who were currently under compulsion spells altering their memories. Heather was their child in their minds. They were having marital problems (admittedly probably also the cause of the compulsion spells). Albus didn't care what happened between them if Heather was within his reach. After all—he may need her.

            Laurel, however, he did not need. He could only control so many at once, and he’d already chosen which ones, so he sent her to the States. He'd scoped out prospective parents a month ago, and they'd welcomed her with open arms and the ate up the story of the poor, orphaned child.

            Jack—also unnecessary, but due to his little _temper_ issue, he'd been sent to a MACUSA boys' home. With the famous Potter temper mixed with Lily's brains, Albus knew he'd pose a threat in the future and was hoping the boys' home would break him.

            And then there was his star. Tiny Harry...sent to abusive relatives...such a happy baby. It had always been Harry. The firstborn, who looked like James with Lily's eyes...Yes, he'd always been the perfect tool.

           

            What Albus didn't count on—and had no way of knowing about—was the Guardians.

 

            **February 1984 – Guardian Realm: Tundra**

            Yeshi felt when something changed.

            It wasn’t a tangible feeling, really. It was as if someone breathed down his neck, and his tail curled a little. He wasn’t sure he liked what was to come.

            It’d been three years since his One’s life had completely been upheaved. Yeshi was forced to watch day in and day out as Harry was punished for things he could not possibly have done. All Yeshi could do was quietly guide his tiny One.

            Watching and doing nothing was hard—what was harder yet was knowing how far to go to protect Harry. If Harry got himself into danger, Yeshi would steer him out of it…but how would Harry ever learn to avoid danger on his own?

            As children go, Harry was a relatively well-behaved one. He simply had much too much power at his disposal. Yeshi taught Harry to be calm, to relax his mind and to control himself. But even so, his untrained magic could not be so easily managed: what seemed like every week, Yeshi watched as the long-haired man (who he took to calling the Gray One) came to clean up a mess Harry had unwittingly made. And then, at the end of it, he would wave his wand over Harry’s head and Harry would forget it ever happened.

            Yeshi didn’t know why this was. Obviously, the Gray One didn’t want Harry to know about his magic, but Yeshi had peeked in on his Half-Ones every once in a while. It was getting harder with the years, as Harry’s bond with them was dying, but he managed. They, it seemed, were allowed to know of magic: Heather, with the Wolf (the Dog had left after the first year), was praised for each magical feat. Her guardian-given gift, air, was pruned (though the Wolf did not know it was anything other than regular magic), and soon she was fully proficient in its use. Laurel’s parents were proud of each achievement as well, and encouraged her to keep control of herself but still learn.

            Jack was another story—his was the clearest vision of all, as he and Harry had always been so close. He lived in what appeared to be a sort of prison. The signs out front called it a boys’ home, but the rigorous routines and strict rules suggested otherwise. Jack was punished for using his guardian-given gift. All other magic was fine (though it was against the rules to use it purposefully), but fire was not allowed. The wizards who ran the boys’ home seemed to think it was a temper problem. Mostly it was, when Jack was angry he had a very hard time controlling it. But he _could_ use it outside of anger.

            But for some reason…Harry was not allowed to use magic of any sort.

            Yeshi thought perhaps this was a scheme of sorts, but couldn’t figure out how Harry could be useful to anyone who wanted to use him if he didn’t know how to use magic.

            But alas, Yeshi couldn’t stop the memory removal from happening. He could only influence Harry, not those around him.

            This was why the Dursleys still hurt Harry and neglected him. Yeshi had taught Harry to be well-behaved and calm, but the Dursleys didn’t like the young boy. If they found him doing magic, he would be punished severely.

            And Harry often used magic. Though the big messes were removed from his memory, the little ones no one knew of were left in his mind. He could light up a room with a simple thought, hide small toys with enough concentration, and recently…

            Yeshi was proud. His One, though the last to learn to use his gifts, had finally manifested his powers.

            _Snow._ There had been actual snow, inside the house, and they tried to erase Harry’s memory of it but he somehow remembered anyways.

            The boy played with ice and snow as often as he could. When outside, he would make falling snowflakes turn into a small tornado. He’d freeze puddles, grow ice from his fingertips, frost over windows…

            Yeshi was so happy his gift was finally received. Yet, he dreaded it: he knew with each use, each day, they risked the Dursleys seeing.

            The future was not set in stone. The older Harry grew the more Yeshi understood that. He could see what was going to happen based on Harry’s current decisions, but if one choice changed—one nudge gone wrong, the entire vision could change. One excited squeal. One happy laugh. One badly timed gasp, and the Dursleys would give out another punishment.

            Mostly Yeshi tried not to view the future anymore. It wasn’t very helpful anyways—constantly changing and with only a limited sight range, he couldn’t change anything major. And the bigger Harry got the easier it was for him to guide himself.

            So, it was while Yeshi was riding the present that he felt something strange. He had been watching Harry jump around outside in ratty shoes and an oversized tracksuit. Snow was falling from the sky, but Harry wasn’t cold…he would never get cold, thanks to his gift.

            Yeshi blinked into his own present, eyes briefly clouding over as he slid from Number 4, Privet Drive to the Tundra he called home. He was wrapped around the Shalestone, where a rather small egg was laying. The more eggs he watched perish, the more things he tried to save them—this was the newest endeavor, physically protecting it with his body. It had seemed to work for a long while, months, but the egg should’ve hatched by now. He had a feeling soon it would disappear, like all of the ones before it.

            Hefting himself to his feet, he shook the snow off his haunches and flicked his tail. Whatever he was feeling, like something crawling down his spine, was making him uneasy.

            He paced, overwhelmingly irritated. Something was off. Something was not right. He checked the borders of his realm, flying over vast icy tundra and diving deep into the sea.

            But it was not something within his realm.

            It was as he wrapped himself back around the Shalestone that it happened. He was snapped into a Vison-like trance, but Harry was nowhere to be found. Around him he felt other presences, the vague knowledge that surrounding the Vision were other Guardians. Three others—one fire, one air, and one earth.

            He knew that these were his One’s Half-Guardians, and that whatever was happening would pertain to all four of them.

            The Vision took place in a darkened room. There was a thin old woman sitting at a desk, wearing many scarves and glasses on her eyes that made her rather bug-like. She was clutching the arms of her chair and gasping, like a fish out of water. The door of the room slammed open and the Gray One, followed by a greasy-haired man and the Dog, rushed in. The Gray One rounded the desk and grasped the woman’s shoulder, and his mouth was moving like he was asking her questions.

            And then she began to speak. Her voice was otherworldly, almost ghost-like.

            “ _Soon there will come a time when the Guardians' Vision will cease...when there will be a choice to make and a path to choose. Soon there will come darkness, a time when the unsure will die and in their place a better One will rise. The One to vanquish the gray warlock has awoken...born in an icy tundra, born of four parts of a whole....and the grey warlock will view the One as his lesser, but the One will have power the grey warlock knows not...the One to vanquish the gray warlock has awoken…_ ”

She repeated the prophecy once more and a misty white light rose from her chest and dispersed. The others around her were silent, now, staring in shock at the limp woman.

By the time she came to, Yeshi was back in his realm, alone.

 

**February 1984 – Guardian Realm: Volcanic Ring**

            “Eldera,” Caixia murmured in respect. She tucked her wings in tightly as she entered the cavern. “I have come with a request.”

            Eldera was not a Fireball. Caixia was not sure what type of dragon their council leader was, but she was beautiful: iridescent black, like oil on water, with red eyes and a crimson underbelly.

            She was a formidable dragon, but a fair leader. Guardians were peaceful dragons, knowing that should they get harmed they would leave their One unprotected. There was nothing more in the world that a Guardian loved than their One.

            Her job was to grant realm leave requests. There hadn’t been a request in centuries: there usually was no need to leave your realm. But in light of recent news…

            Caixia could not pretend that the prophecy had not shaken her. And seeing all of her One’s Half-Guardians—it all suddenly made sense to her.

            As long as she could remember, she always felt the need to leave the volcanic ring. It was home, yes, and she would always have some sort of attachment to it. But she knew in her heart that there were things she needed to do elsewhere.

            Now, with the prophecy, she knew that she needed to be with the other three. They could no longer function separately, not when this prophecy effected all four of their Ones. Everything they did would need to be in conjunction from now on.

            “There is a prophecy, Eldera,” Caixia started, hesitatingly. “My One has three nestmates, and last night myself and my One’s Half-Guardians were given a prophecy. Pertaining to all four children. I believe that the four of us should meet and decide how best to protect our Ones from the upcoming debacle.”

            Eldera, who was looking upon her gently, sighed. “Young one, you must know why you cannot leave.”

            “Yes,” Caixia agreed. “If I leave this realm, I may never be able to find it again. But by the goddess, I do not care. If I cannot protect Jack from this prophecy, it does not matter where I am.”

            “I know that you are right,” Eldera spoke. She rose from her perch. “Where are the other Guardians?”

            Caixia explained how there was one in each realm. Eldera sighed sadly.

            “It would be much easier should more of you have been in one realm. You understand that should you leave, there will be no help in navigation? I am not sure where one realm ends and the next begins—nor what lies between.”

            “I understand, Eldera.”

            And Caixia did. She also understood that there was something—she didn’t know what—telling her that she would encounter little difficulty. This was not her true quest, and thus there would be no hardships.

 

**February 1984 – Guardian Realm: Tundra**

            Yeshi was getting ready to leave on his own quest.

            He’d known this was coming for a long time. No matter what choices Harry made, this outcome always seemed inevitable—even throwing in the new prophecy, which, in the end, hadn’t changed much for Harry yet.

            He was lying near the Shalestone, staring at where the egg used to be. As he’d predicted, it had faded overnight. He was smaller than usual, using magic to make him a better size for what was to come. If he had to estimate his size, he’d probably compare himself to the size of a large dog.

            He blinked his eyes, drifting into Harry’s present. Yeshi had left the small boy after he had frozen the water coming out of the kitchen tap in fear. He knew what was coming—Uncle beat Harry, not as bad as usual (Yeshi thought perhaps Uncle was in a good mood). There was no blood, though he could already see bruising.

            The Gray One did not arrive and clean up the mess, perhaps not thinking it a big enough deal at the time. Oh, but he would wish things had gone differently…

            Harry was lying in his cupboard, on his side, crying softly. Yeshi could hardly bear the sight of his tiny One so upset, and the only thing that kept him from rampaging was the amount of times he’d seen it before.

            There were soft words coming out of the boy’s mouth, very quiet, but Yeshi was used to this. Harry had known of Yeshi (or the idea of Yeshi) for a very long time. He knew there was someone watching over him, who could only guide him from the sidelines. Yeshi didn’t think Harry knew he was a dragon, however.

            “Angel…’m so-so-s-so sad…why don’ they l-like me…” the boy was crying. “I wish…I wanna live wif you…you wunnit hurt me…please can I live wif you…”

            ‘Angel’, Yeshi thought with a sad smile. Harry always thought Yeshi was an angel.

            “I promise I will help you, Harry,” he thought, loudly. “I’m coming for you.”

            “Angel?” Harry whispered, gasping. “Him’s real?”

            Yeshi, too, was surprised Harry heard him. But then, he’d been surprised about a lot of things since he saw this day happening.

            The fact that he could just… _go get_ Harry…

            Why had he never thought about it before? Before he saw this day happening?

            It’d taken all his strength to wait until today. But now, he could save his tiny One.

            “Am Yeshi,” he thought to his One. “Am going to protect you.”

            “Yeshi,” wondered Harry. “I love you Yeshi.”

 

            And then the Sight ran out. It went dark, which Yeshi had not been expecting—nothing had changed, why could he no longer see? But he realized, belatedly, that this was a choice…and for once, not Harry’s choice.

            Yeshi’s.

            He blinked back into his own present, looking around his Tundra one last time. There was a new egg on the Shalestone, freshly born, and he yearned to meet the being that he _knew_ would hatch from it. But he had promises to keep.

            Stretching, tail in the air, Yeshi said goodbye to his realm. He did not know if there would come a time that he would see it again.

            Maybe never.

            He brought his tail down and, with the momentum, leaped high into the air. His wings snapped out behind him, catching him, and he pushed himself higher into the air.

            “Goodbye,” he told the egg, before he got too far away. “May you never be lonely.”

 

            He didn’t know how he got to the human realm, but somehow, he did—one moment, he was breaching the barrier between his realm and the unknown, and the next he was hovering over Number 4, Privet Drive.

            It was unreal. He had seen these houses so many times, and that yard—he’d watched Harry prune that garden every day last summer. He landed silently, gracefully, on the front walk, looking around himself.

            It was kind of—warm? He had never felt this before, but he knew it to be the opposite of cold, and it definitely wasn’t cold. Not as cold as he was used to, anyways.

            His claws, smaller in this form, scrabbled on the pavement as he made his way to the door.

            “ _Harry?_ ” he thought. “ _Is Yeshi. Am outside.”_

            “Yeshi?” he heard, whispered back in his mind. “I dunno…how to go outside.”

            The picture of a locked cupboard door entered his mind, clearly from Harry.

            “ _Use magic,”_ Yeshi urged. “ _Quickly, before am noticed.”_

            There was silence for some minutes—too many minutes—and just before Yeshi was about to prompt Harry again, the door opened.

            And they were face to face for the first time.

 

            Harry was not fearful of the dragon. He was tiny, tinier than perhaps Yeshi had thought he’d be. He was shorter than Yeshi in this form, and thin, his tiny legs poking out under an oversized, ratty t-shirt.

            “Yeshi,” murmured Harry, putting one thumb in his mouth. The other hand, slightly grubby, reached out to touch Yeshi.

            They both gasped as something icy shot between them—something that felt like _knowing._ Like protection, and love, and all that was good in the world.

            A snowstorm blew up around Harry, and his skin turned vaguely bluish. His hands and feet were covered in frost, and his eyes went solid blue.

            “Yeshi!” the little boy shouted, falling into him. He was hugging him, and crying. Yeshi nudged him up.

            “Let us go now, little One,” he urged. There was something in his chest stirring—warm, and protective, and fierce. He would kill for this child. He would _die_ for this child.

            They left, walking side-by-side down the walkway and onto the sidewalk. Then Yeshi knelt for Harry to mount his back, and they flew, and they flew, for miles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there's anything you guys want to see, and maybe it'll happen. :) Next chapter might have a bit of a timeskip in it, or maybe the chapter after that. Hope you like it <3


	3. Growing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry departs Privet Drive, possibly forever, and winds up raised by dragons. Literally. Also, Charlie Weasley is there sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno where I'm going with this. I don't know how much detail of his childhood, or the others' childhoods (next chapter) is too much. I don't like detailing it, but I know it'll help with future chapters (where we get to the fun bits)...

            **February 1984 – Hogwarts: Headmaster's Office**

 

            Albus Dumbledore was awakened by an off-putting feeling, deep within his chest. He was not as young as he once was, and it took him several minutes of trying to drift back to sleep to place the feeling. It was the coppery twanging within his magic of a ward alert.

            He jumped out of bed immediately. Still in his overly bright pajamas, Albus hurried down the stairs and into his office. He panicked when he saw which of his trinkets were spinning and whistling.

            This particular silver knickknack was keyed into the wards surrounding Number 4, Privet Drive. They were particularly complex wards, woven to allow freedom of movement for young Harry Potter. The only times the wards were set to alert Albus were upon Harry's imminent danger, forceful removal, life-threatening situations, or when he no longer viewed Number 4 as home.

            Abruptly the fireplace flared poison green. Arabella Figg's head was sticking through and, almost without waiting to make sure someone was there, she began babbling.

            “Albus, the boy—he's done something—something magical—I've never seen it before—you should come quickly, people are starting to notice—”

            Albus felt like his heart suddenly started beating again. If Arabella was contacting him about accidental magic, surely the boy was okay—he wasn't harmed, or kidnapped...maybe he was going through a stubborn phase of some sort...

            Yes, a stubborn stage, he assured himself, trying to put the doubt and worry out of his mind.

            “I'll be there momentarily, Arabella,” Albus said gravely. “Try to make sure he's not causing a break in the statute.”

            The woman nodded determinedly, disappearing back out of the flames whilst muttering to herself. He heard the words “ice” and “natural” before she was gone.

            He sank down into the high-backed chair behind his desk, running a weary hand over his face. It'd been a long three years since Lily and James had been brutally murdered in their home, in front of young Harry. Since then, because of the prophecy, Albus had done a lot of things in the name of the Greater Good. A lot of things that many people would think as awful, cruel acts.

            They were necessary things—necessary to make sure young Harry had the very best upbringing possible in order to ensure his part in the prophecy. Even if that meant confunding a lot of people, obliviating the Dursleys' neighbors every time Harry performed accidental magic, and keeping secrets.

            Harry was an exponentially powerful boy. Albus had been worried and had tried to have his magic partially bound but Lily and James would hear of no such thing. Even after they passed they'd somehow made it impossible for Albus to even try—every binding spell he'd tried had slid off of Harry like water.

            It seemed like every week Albus had to go clean up some mess or the other and obliviate neighbors and even the Dursleys and Harry themselves. But this was the first time he'd ever actually _worried_ about the accident.

            Standing from his chair and transfiguring his nightclothes into muggle day wear, Albus approached the floo with trepidation.

            One day, he knew, he wasn't going to be able to clean up the mess Harry left behind.

 

            **February 1984 – Number 4, Privet Drive**

...and today might just be that day, Albus thought wearily, his wand falling limply to his side. Arabella stood near him, scowling grimly.

            It was an unusually warm winter for this part of England, and there had been little snowfall yet this year. What little had fallen would melt within hours.

            Yet—and someone was bound to notice at some point—there was ice, trailing from the house's stoop, up the front walk, partially down the sidewalk, and then suddenly disappearing.

            And that was not the oddest part about it all.

            The ice—it was in the shape of footprints.

            And it was not melting.

 

            The sun was steadily rising and Albus had finally decided if he continued, he'd be spotted. Waving Arabella back to her own home, he approached the front door with some amount of apprehension. Whatever little Harry had done, Albus needed to know so he could get rid of the effects.

            There was little movement from within the house, but Albus figured that Petunia would be happier with this display of “freakishness” removed rather than getting a few more minutes of beauty sleep. Knocking purposefully, firmly, he only had to wait a few minutes before the woman in question opened the door.

            “You,” she grimaced. “Why are you darkening our doorstep? What has the freak done this time?”

            Instead of answering, which, Albus thought, would not have quite the same effect, he stepped aside primly. Her eyes fell upon the ice and he saw the very moment she understood. Her gaze darkened furiously.

            “Why, I never!” she shrieked, turning and stomping into the home. “Sneaking out in the dead of night! Leaving behind signs of his freakishness! BOY!”

            There was some slamming, and then another frustrated shriek. Albus entered carefully and popped the door shut behind him, looking around. As with the last visit, there were no signs Harry even resided within the house—no pictures of him on the neat white walls, no clothing his size strewn about the floor or stairwell. The shoes lined up on the mat next to the door came in only three sizes: three pairs of trainers, three pairs of wellies, three pairs of winter boots. There were three coats on the rack.

            It was a shame—but it was necessary.

            He kept telling himself that.

            Still there was the slamming and the yelling. Another voice, masculine—Vernon Dursley—joined in, shouting and slamming and stomping. Dudley Dursley began wailing when he was woken up.

            And yet...no sign of Harry.

            Albus pulled out his wand, whispering, “Hominem revelio.”

            It spun and alerted him to the presence of only three others.

            Harry was no longer in the home.

 

**February 1984 – Hogwarts: Headmaster's Office**

“Harry Potter is missing,” the Headmaster announced. Remus noticed his face was pale, drawn. “We believe he left of his own accord sometime last night, perhaps distressed. He left behind signs of accidental magic. The Dursleys do not know where he may have gone—he has no friends, they have informed me, and is not particularly intelligent. I fear he may have met someone who manipulated him into leaving and meeting them.”

            Remus raised his eyebrows. Across the room, leaning tensely against the wall, Sirius snorted.

            “He's four,” the black-haired man said, gritting his teeth. “You're telling me that you honestly believe a four-year-old was able to sneak out of a heavily warded house, in an emotional state, and that he was possibly 'going to meet somebody'? He's _four!_ He doesn't understand that sort of thing, I can promise you that!”

            Dumbledore sighed and brought his hands together in a steeple. “Be that as it may, we have found no trace of him. I fear he may be in great danger. All traces of his magic disappear shortly outside the wards. And, as you know—Lily and James placed anti-tracking charms on him during the war.”

            Remus crossed his arms in front of him, trying not to worry too much. Unbeknownst to him, a spell had been placed on him three years ago—one that made him detached, blurred his memories a little. He honestly only cared about Harry insomuch as he was the Boy Who Lived, and it wasn’t even Remus’ fault.

            He was mostly thinking about Heather. It was Sirius’ week with her, and he couldn’t imagine _his_ four-year-old disappearing. What the Dursleys must be feeling right now! Even imagining it, his heart ached!

            As the rest of the Order, which was more-or-less still together in the wake of Voldemort’s death, began debating what they should do to try and find Harry, Remus once again looks to Sirius.

            They’d had a happy marriage, he thought. It’d been short, only two years, but their relationship had been strong…when James and Lily died, they both sort of fell apart. It was a mostly amicable breakup, after they realized that being together caused them more grief than happiness: Remus got to stay in the house, even though it was Sirius’, and they took Heather every other week. Sirius had her during the days leading up to and after the full moon each month, which could be complicated and led to Remus getting her less some months.

            But they were happy. They spent holidays together, because neither of them had anywhere else to be anyways. Remus owned a tiny bookshop that they’d bought when they were still together, and he earned enough there each month to support himself should Sirius ever decide to take his house back. Sirius was still an auror, and sometimes would drop Heather off at Remus’ should he be called away.

            Remus missed Sirius, sometimes. He’d been so close to James, Lily, Sirius, and Peter that when two of them died and the other was sent to Azkaban, Sirius was Remus’ only friend. And then that went up in flames, too.

            It had been so sudden.

            But he tried not to think too hard about that.

 

            Severus sat watching Lupin and Black quietly. He was happy with himself for a little while. Even though he didn’t agree with anything Dumbledore said, _especially_ about the Potter children, he had greatly enjoyed pulling the wool over two of his bullies’ eyes.

            But now he just felt like an ass.

            They had just been kids when they were bullying Severus. It didn’t make it right, and Severus would hate them for it for the rest of his life—but he was an adult. And _his_ bullying was messing up lives.

            He didn’t even know where to start to fix it, though, or even if he wanted to. He was one of the few people, if not the only one, who knew of Dumbledore’s plans. He wasn’t charmed or spelled to forget things. He knew that Dumbledore had sent Laurel Potter and Jack Potter off to the USA, that Harry Potter was with known abusive relatives, and that Heather Black was actually Heather Potter.

            But most of the world didn’t even know Laurel, Heather, and Jack Potter existed. The few who did (Pettigrew, Lupin, Black, and a few family members) had been spelled into forgetting. Not quite obliviated…if they thought long and hard enough, they could probably remember.

            There wasn’t much he could do, right now. Perhaps when the children were old enough, he could make sure they somehow found out about each other…perhaps he could try and force Remus and Sirius back together, since he knew the only thing keeping them apart was the spellwork. Maybe once everything was said and done, they could try to stop Dumbledore.

            He cleared that of his mind immediately, lest Dumbledore read it there. Now was not the time to be found out.

           

            **February 1984 – Unknown**

            Harry and Yeshi flew until they found a safe place to stop. It looked near enough like Yeshi’s tundra that he felt at home, and immediately burrowed out a hole in the ground for them to sleep in. He knew that Harry, being a water elemental, would never feel cold—and thus was not worried about the harsh temperatures.

            When Yeshi woke, he bundled Harry up and hid him in the hole, before venturing to find somewhere better to stay. He was beginning to realize that toting a child around was a lot of work, but he had no choice in the matter. Alas, even if he did, this _would_ be his choice. Harry was far safer with Yeshi than with any human.

            Soon he came upon a clan of dragons—dragons who were of the same breed as Yeshi. They called themselves Snowdancers. Yeshi knew that his kind were very friendly, non-territorial dragons, and even though this clan was not from his realm they did not disappoint. They told him, in a dialect not quite his own, that he and his “hatchling” were free to join their clan.

            It was the perfect home—among other beings where they could learn and socialize, near the sea so they could fish for food, and hidden among mountains and snowdrifts so they could easily hide.

            Harry settled down easily here. He quickly took to riding Yeshi, and was amazed when the dragon returned to his full size. The other dragons sometimes humored Harry’s antics, as well, allowing him to clamber over their icy scales.

            Yeshi and Harry were quick friends. Yeshi taught his One just as well, if not better, now that they were together: taught him how to avoid danger, how to control his wild magic (which only got wilder with time), and how to use his elements.

The one thing that Yeshi regretted about coming to the human realm was he no longer had Sight…each choice he made came with the knowledge that he could no longer view its outcome.

            Harry was a fast learner. He mastered wandless magic as a young child, and had little trouble with anything else taught to him. He was a pretty poor water mage, however: he could not control the water, and swam only when necessary. Ice, on the other hand—he was amazing at ice. He would create bridges between mountain tops, ice spires and statues, snowstorms and igloos. Seeing the Snowdancers were a rare breed that spit ice instead of fire, he quickly began to copy them—breathing ice and snow with the hatchlings.

            In fact, Harry looked more dragon than child on the best of days: he looked as if he had blue skin, with scales as icy as any dragon’s. His hair had grown long and wild, untamed by human inventions, and his eyes were generally solid ice blue, like chips of ice.

            If Yeshi couldn’t feel the boy’s radiating warmth, he would think Harry was freezing over…literally.

            There were rare moments when Yeshi would sneak away and steal things from the human world. Clothing for Harry—though the boy didn’t get cold, he did enjoy being snuggled up in soft furs and blankets—and books, so he could learn to read. Occasionally he would steal sweets, or food other than fish and what rare plants grew in this cold climate.

            Harry grew well, even given his wild upbringing. Scrawny and scraggly, and more dragon than child.

(Yeshi and Harry had come across a group of adventurers once, on a journey of their own, and Yeshi was pretty sure Harry scared them more than he did.)

            Of course they knew there were wizards looking for Harry. They would be hard pressed to find him—the boy hardly remembered his own name or age, and he didn’t even look like Harry Potter anymore. It was only when they ventured away from their home, out of the harsh winter into warmer climates, that they learned Harry’s appearance was temporary…he defrosted into a relatively normal-looking child, with peachy pale skin and bright green eyes.

This was the first and only time they were nearly caught—by the time the wizard did a double-take when Harry and a tiny, shoulder-sized Yeshi entered a wizarding city, the duo was already gone.

            Through the years, they tried not to enter anywhere too civilized—at least wizarding civilizations. They often would warm Harry up to make him look like a proper human, and Yeshi would shrink down to a shameful size and ride in his One’s pocket while they explored muggle towns. Yeshi felt it was necessary for Harry to stay in touch with his human size, as, eventually, he would probably rejoin his kind.

            The other dragons thought it strange that Yeshi and Harry didn’t migrate with them. Every summer (though it was more like a less harsh winter, really), the other Snowdancers would migrate further north to lay eggs, and once they had hatched in early winter, they’d venture back down to where Yeshi and Harry stayed.

            Harry was exceptional with the hatchlings and enjoyed playing with them and pretending he was a dragon. Even as hatchlings, they grew bigger than him in weeks—within four months they could pick him up and gobble him down if they really wanted, though Snowdancers mostly ate fish.

           

            When the dragon tamers came, it was surprisingly Harry who interested them the most.

            They started coming when Harry was seven, and they came up each summer and winter since. Harry learned that, since Snowdancers were such tame dragons to begin with, the dragon tamers didn’t bother sending them to reserves. Instead, they brought trainees up to their mountain range in order to observe and learn about dragon mating and growth.

            Sometimes they observed him, too—they brought him treats and new things whenever they came, and each trip they tried to convince him to come back to the human world with them. One man, who had come every year since Harry was nine, even tried bribing Harry— “I bet my brother would love you,” and “You could come back with me when I visit,” and so on.

            He was an interesting human—Harry didn’t really understand humans, but this one was funny. He was the bravest of all the dragon tamers, and had often gotten his hair or fingers frozen by getting too close to the hatchlings. He had several scars on his arms from getting ‘freezer burnt’, even.

            One of the things this man, Charlie, did, was draw the dragons when he was here. Charlie gained more and more experience each year he arrived, and Harry thought perhaps he was working on a research book based on Snowdancers. There were so many different pictures—pictures of them in eggs, mid-hatching, through each season of growth. Each drawing had notes on the various aspects of Snowdancers, like how they breathed ice instead of fire, or their diets and mating habits.

            Harry liked to sit with Charlie while he drew, and watch. He was very good. He sketched Harry playing with some hatchlings once, and Harry had begged for a portrait to see what he really looked like. When it was done, Charlie had used a spell to duplicate the drawing and gave Harry a copy of it.

            Harry and Yeshi had lived in a cavern for the last several years—it was carved into the base of the mountain purposefully, with magic. Harry had a bed of furs within it, and on the wall, he hung the picture Charlie had given to him excitedly.

            If only he knew that was the beginning of the end.  


End file.
